


Unexpected

by cloj



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5738983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloj/pseuds/cloj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of 2015, in which a last minute good deed by Harry sees him form an unlikely friendship with an older woman named Beth. Both are facing new chapters in their lives. Harry now has time to explore, to experience, whatever his heart desires. Beth has to overcome a recent tragedy and look towards the future. Will this unexpected friendship be just the thing that they never knew they needed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exploding Knickers and Groceries

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
>  
> 
> I hope the summary has intrigued you a little, I really suck at writing them!
> 
> This is just a story that has been floating around in my head and I'm gonna try my best to get it out into words.
> 
> I don't know Harry (I wish!) so I don't know what he's really like, what he thinks or says, it kind of how I imagine how he might be.
> 
> I'm going to alternate between POV's which I've never done before either.
> 
> If you end up reading and enjoying it, let me know! I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> S xo

Beth’s POV

 

“Mum?”  
Where is it? I think.  
“Muuum?”  
Everyone else has theirs, where the hell is mine?  
“MUM!”  
I turn and look at my daughter who has moved further around the luggage carousel and is pointing to a lone suitcase that had been taken off the revolving ride.  
My suitcase.  
Currently being examined by two airport security guards.  
Shit.  
I quickly move around the carousel and towards the two men.  
“Is this yours?” one of them questions me.  
“Yes, yes it is,” I reply, wide-eyed as they both stare at me.  
Like, really stare at me.  
Down,  
Stare down.  
“You realise you should not leave your luggage unattended like this?” the other guard asks me, “it could be mistaken for a potential bomb threat.”  
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I picture my suitcase exploding and my knickers going everywhere.  
Yes that could very well blind some poor unsuspecting soul.  
Blinded by exploding knickers.  
“Well to be fair,” I reply, “someone else actually took it off. I’ve been standing on the other side waiting for it to come around.”  
They both look at me like I’m an idiot.  
“I can’t see the other side from here…” I trail off.  
They keep looking at me.  
“Can I go now?” I ask.  
They both nod at me before walking off.  
I exhale to the point my lips make that weird flapping noise.  
“Mum?”  
I hear the whisper behind me, causing me to turn and look at my three young children.  
Youngish, I guess.  
Well Nick is 12, James is 11 and Chloe is 9.   
Not so young that I still need to wipe their asses after the toilet but not quite old enough that I would let them cook on the stove top unattended.  
“Let’s go my little cherubs,” I say wearily.  
They follow me out of the airport and towards the nearby waiting line of taxis.  
We find an older looking man who has a bit of a twinkle in his eye. He actually gets out of the car and walks over to help us.  
“Where are you headed to love?” he asks.  
“Uh…a town called Holmes Chapel?” I reply, hoping he knows of it and how to get there.  
“Village love, it’s a village,” he says smiling.  
At this point you could call it a tube of toothpaste because I’m so tired that I just want to get there.  
After our luggage is loaded in and the kids are all seatbelted in the back, we head off.  
“So where you from love?” he asks in an attempt to draw me into conversation.  
Maybe I should engage so I stay awake. He could drive us anywhere. I am a mother with three young children.  
A prime target.  
And clearly fucking sleep deprived.  
“Uh…Australia. Victoria to be specific,” I reply.  
“Ah!” his face lights up with recognition, “do you like to throw another shrimp on the barbie?” he attempts an Australian accent.  
I inwardly roll my eyes. Thank goodness he’s good at driving because his imitation sucks.  
“Not personally, no,” I smile which had him chuckling.  
“Do you have those kangaroos jumping down your street?” he asks.  
I raise my eyebrows at him.  
What the hell has this bloke been told about Australia?  
It’s almost comical because it actually is true.  
About the kangaroos.  
They actually do jump along my road. Well, more so leap in front of my car during the summer months.  
Stupid things.  
And what was how the drive went. The lovely taxi driver, whose name I learnt was George, asking me numerous questions and me doing my best to answer them.  
“Which place are you staying at?” George asks as the lights from the taxi shine on the welcoming sign of Holmes Chapel.  
“It’s called Bridge Farm B&B,” I tell him.  
“Lovely little spot,” he exclaims, “how long you staying for?”  
“I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully, “indefinitely. I’m seeing how it goes I guess.”  
There was a comfortable silence as we drive through the quaint little town, sorry, village.  
I notice the row of small shops as we drive down the main street. A small supermarket catches my eye and I make a mental note that we should pop down to grab a couple of things for the night.  
“Well you’ve picked a good little place to think about it all,” he says as he slows the taxi before turning into a driveway.  
I could just make out the double story cottage in the dark and began to feel a little bit excited that we were finally here.  
“I’m staying at the small individual cottage at the rear,” I explain to George, who nods in understanding.  
He pulls up at the front door and I see the white front door is illuminated by the porch light. I silently thank the owner for not letting me fumble around in the dark.  
Cause it’s hard.  
And I’m clumsy as hell.  
With our bags now at the door, I thank George profusely, he couldn’t have been more lovelier.  
“Enjoy your stay love,” he says as he walks towards the taxi and opens the door, sitting himself inside it. He rolls down the window after starting the engine.  
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he says, “or what you’re not.”  
I smile and wave as he reverses out.  
I didn’t know how pertinent those words would prove to be.  
~~~  
“Okay guys, let’s get our stuff in and we’ll take a quick walk into town to grab some snacks and stuff for breakfast,” I say as I open the door.  
Turning the inside light on, the kids suddenly find their second wind as they drag their luggage upstairs.  
“Stairs mum! There are stairs!” James says with excitement.  
It’s not like we don’t have stairs in Australia. It’s just that WE don’t have stairs.  
I can hear them fighting over who is sleeping where before a very heated exchange of ‘rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock’ takes place.  
Thank you Big Bang Theory.  
Silence.  
I think they worked it out.  
Footsteps, or a small herd of elephants, descend on the stairs.  
“We sorted it out mum!” James tells me, “we’re gonna take it in turns to share the big bed and the bunk on top.”  
“No, no, no!” I cut him off, “Chloe cannot sleep on the top bunk so it’ll just have to be between you two boys if you swap.”  
“Oh yeah!” Nick points to his sister, “you’re not allowed on bunks!”  
I watch her pout.  
It’s not that I think she’s too young, she has just been known to sleepwalk and I really don’t fancy concussion or broken bones on this trip.  
So sue me for playing it safe.  
“Come on,” I say, grabbing my bag, “let’s go down to the supermarket then we can settle in for the night.”  
I remember to grab the house keys off the kitchen table as well as Chloe’s outstretched hand as we all head out the door.  
It’s not cold, but it is a little nippy as we make our way into town, the little street lights illuminating the path for us. We don’t even have street lights where I live.  
The boys talk animatedly amongst themselves about creepers and mining for gold and other Minecraft related stuff.  
The shit that these kids build amazes me.  
Chloe just showed me ‘The Stampy Supreme’ hotel owned by her pet rabbit Stampy. It’s four levels high complete with beds, couches, cupboards, flower arrangements and a waterfall. And a giant carrot rocket. Cause all rabbits have that apparently.  
We soon reach the lit up shops and stop at the small supermarket.  
Waitrose.  
Cute name.  
It doesn’t seem overly busy as we enter and I pick up a shopping basket. There only seems to be about half a dozen people in here as I head to the fridge for milk, margarine and juice then towards the back for some bread.  
I find my kids in front of the lollies and chips.  
Of course.  
“I’ve got stuff for breakfast, let’s just grab something quick for tonight’s dinner and a couple of snacks? We’ll do a proper shop tomorrow.”  
I watch them walk around the aisles as I head over to the produce section and place some apples and bananas in the basket.  
They come back armed with several cups.  
“Noodles?” I ask.  
“Yeah, we’re good with that mum,” Nick says as they throw them into the basket.  
“O-kay,” I reply as they already walk off.  
“Can we get some chips mum? Please?” they all seem to chorus together, as innocent as newborn babes.  
My ass they are.  
“Alright, choose something each as a treat and then we’re done,” I answer.  
Fist pumps and several ‘yeses’ are uttered.  
With our basket full, we head up to the counter to pay. The young girl behind the counter seems so enthused to be there, barely even looking at me.  
“That’ll be £43.75,” she says in a monotone voice.  
I swipe my card and wait for the machine to tell me it’s not approved.  
Oh my fuck.  
“It’s declined,” she says.  
Thanks Einstein, I think to myself.  
“Can I try again?” I ask.  
She taps a few buttons and nods for me to go again.  
And it’s declined.  
I feel my face begin to flame with embarrassment.  
Like, I know there’s money there.  
A shitload actually.  
I’m suddenly aware there’s another person standing a couple of metres away waiting to pay for their purchases.  
“Look, I have the money but obviously my card isn’t working,” I begin, “we’ve just flown in, it’s taken us over a day, I’m staying just down the road at Bridge Farm,” I gesture to my kids, “they’re tired and hungry…”  
She stares blankly at me.  
I’m panicking now.  
Panicked and embarrassed.  
“I can leave my drivers’ licence here and come back in the morning once I’ve gone to the bank to sort it out?” I offer.  
“I’m afraid I can’t ma’am,” she says.  
The realisation that she’s going to send me packing with three hangry (hungry and angry) children frightens me. And I teach 3-year old kindergarten. Not to mention that Jamie tends to lose his shit if he doesn’t eat enough.  
“Look, you can have one of my kids. I’ve got three, I can spare one?” I say with a smile on my face, using humour as a last ditch attempt with her.  
But her eyes widen in shock.  
Hell I just offered to trade one, I didn’t say I wanted to kill any of them.  
“Fine,” I sigh tiredly, “thank you for thinking outside the box.”  
I look at my kids, getting their attention.  
“Come on, leave it and let’s go,” I say to them.  
“Aren’t we getting the food?” James asks, a worried look on his face.  
I smile apologetically.  
“My card’s not working so we’ll have to wait until the morning,” I tell him.  
“But we’re hungry!” Chloe pleads.  
I scoot them out the door amid further protests of starvation and disbelief.  
“I promise we’ll go for a huge breakfast in the morning,” I say as the doors close behind us.  
~~~  
It’s not until we begin walking home that I realise how much my head is beginning to hurt.  
Now I have a headache.  
Great.  
We make it back to the cottage and now that I’ve had time to look around, I notice there’s provisions for tea, coffee and hot chocolate.  
“Hey!” I say to them, “why don’t you go upstairs and put your jammies on and I can at least make you all a hot chocolate before bed?”  
They grumpily agree with my offer and I busy myself setting up three mugs as I wait for the kettle to boil. They all come racing down the stairs just as it starts to whistle. I’m about to pick it up when there’s a knock at the door. I frown in confusion as to who could be calling so late, and why. Maybe it was just the owner, Mrs. Watkins. We’d talked over email several times and she seemed lovely.  
Of course it must be her, wanting to introduce herself.  
I open the door and stand there.  
It’s not Mrs. Watkins.  
It’s a young man holding bags of groceries.  
I’m wondering if he’s lost.  
I realise I’m still frowning until I hear Chloe’s voice behind me.  
“It’s Harry!” she yells in disbelief.  
The frown disappears as my eyebrows rise as far as they go in shock as Harry Styles stands there smiling at me.


	2. Amateur Paparazzi and Ice Cream

Harry's POV

 

The radio plays along in the background as I drive down the familiar streets and into the main part of town.  
It was good to be home, more so now that I was no longer on a timeframe regarding the band and I was free to do whatever and visit whomever I wanted to without having to plan every little thing.  
Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, and it will certainly be different having so much time to myself, but I think we deserve a little bit of downtime after the whirlwind of the past five years.  
I had flown back home earlier this morning and had subsequently spent the better part of the day sleeping off the jetlag.  
After showering to freshen myself up, and a phone call to mum to reassure her that I would be seeing her tomorrow for lunch, I realised I needed to do a small restock of essential food supplies after finding my cupboards bare.  
I was sure I’d asked my PA to pop in and leave some food and drinks for me…  
So here I am, driving down the darkened streets towards the supermarket in town.  
To be honest I probably could have walked but it was a bit on the chilly side and, well fuck it, I was feeling lazy.  
The welcome light of the small local Waitrose greets me as I look for a car park outside. Luck was on my side and I find one nearby, manoeuvring my range rover into it.  
Turning the car off, I grab my phone and wallet and exit my car, looking both ways before I cross over to the other side of the street.  
I notice the nearby café is quite busy with groups of people chatting animatedly over hot food and drinks, the noise from inside flowing out when someone opened the door.  
Maybe I should bring mum here tomorrow…  
I smile to myself, thinking how good it is going to be to be able to catch up with friends like that now that I was home indefinitely.  
As I walk towards the door to Waitrose, I watch a woman enter with three young children ahead of me, which brings me to survey the inside of the store. I sigh in relief that there was only a handful of other shoppers inside.  
Less chance for me to be recognised.  
Not that I wasn’t grateful for our fans, god knows I was.  
But sometimes it was nice to be able to slip into a shop occasionally without being photographed. However that was the nature these days, especially with mobile phones, everyone was a photographer.  
I pick up a basket once I enter and begin the slow process of walking around, browsing the aisles for what I need, or rather what my stomach thinks it needs.  
I wander over to the fresh produce section and pick out a bunch of bananas and assorted greens. Maybe I should just make a salad or smoothie?  
No, something a bit more substantial.  
I continue to walk around and pick up more basic essential items such as bread, milk and juice.  
Now for dinner.  
Maybe just a stir-fry? But honestly I can’t be bothered cooking tonight. I think I’ll order a pizza when I get home.  
After agreeing with myself, I continue to walk around and throw other items into my basket as my last thought settles on some snacks for later.  
I intend to chill out and watch a movie or two after dinner so snacks were definitely required.  
I made my way down an aisle when I hear some whispering voices accompanied by giggling.  
I look to my right to see someone take my photo from the end of the aisle.  
Seriously?! I’m just supermarket shopping…  
I turn around and walk the other way, heading to the confectionary aisle.  
I stop behind the three young children who had walked in earlier and who currently look to be in a serious discussion regarding their selections.  
“Mum said just one thing James, you need to put something back,” the young girl said as she rolled her eyes at whom I assume is her older brother.  
He looks at both items, clearly struggling with having to make a choice.  
“Eeny meeny miny mo, catch a nipper by the toe, if he hollers, let him go, eeny, meeny, miny mo,” he starts.  
Eeny meeny, always a sure-fire solution when having to make an unmakeable decision.  
Wait, is that even a word?  
“Boy scout, you’re out,” he continued.  
We have a winner.  
“Girls skin, you’re in,”  
Wait, weren’t you just out?  
“Ip dip, dog shit, you are not it,” he finished proudly.  
What..?  
He was going to need a cut lunch soon if he kept this up.  
He places the losing item back on the shelf and looks to the other two children to see what they have.  
“But Chloe,” the older boy was saying, “If you get the bag, they’ll be more to share,” he advises wisely.  
Smart kid.  
Decisions were finally made and I watch them walk off to a woman a couple of aisles over, who I assume is their mum. I watch as she turns and listens to them all talk and throw their prized purchases into the basket she holds.  
Smiling at them, she gestures for them to walk up to the front counter to pay for their items. I smile to myself before concentrating on what I actually want to snack on later whilst I watch a movie. I end up placing some popcorn and chocolate into my basket and start walking up to the counter, ignoring the whispering and trying not to roll my eyes as I pass.  
I wait patiently as the woman with the three children are served at the counter before me. I notice how she smiles at the younger boy who is clearly excited with what they’re going to eat later.  
She looks tired.  
Happy but tired.  
I suppose being a parent must be tiring at times.  
She swipes her card and the smile falls from her face. She gestures to the girl behind the counter and tries again. By this time, I can see her face begin to redden as she gestures to the girl again, much more frantically and the girl looks like she really couldn’t care less.  
I frown as I hear her explain she has the money and offers different solutions, telling the girl she’s staying at the local B&B but it all seems to fall on deaf ears.  
Other people are listening to the exchange and nobody actually seems to care.  
Eventually she sighs in defeat and heads out of the supermarket without her groceries but with some obviously very hungry and upset children.  
I know exactly how she must be feeling and now being unable to feed her kids…I mean, I don’t know about feeding children but I know how tired she must be right now having just flown here.  
Oh shut up Harold.  
I move forward and place my basket on the countertop.  
“Oh! Oh my!” I hear the girl behind the counter say.  
Her face has brightened considerably now she’s seen me.  
I give her a tight smile, still thinking about the woman that was just standing here.  
“Will that be all?” the girls question breaks into my thoughts as she beams at me as I shake my head.  
She wasn’t that happy with the other woman.  
“Anything else you need?” she leans forward slightly, and I can’t help but notice her chest is now pushed out at me.  
Nope, definitely not like this with the woman.  
My gaze is caught by the two shopping bags that have been placed on the floor behind her.  
I begin to wage an internal battle.  
It’s the right thing to do.  
But I don’t know her.  
What if that was your family.  
I don’t know where she lives.  
Yes you do, you heard her say it you chicken shit.  
But what if…  
Don’t be a dick Harold.  
“Uh…and I’ll pay for those too,” I point to the two bags behind her.  
She frowns and turns around to look at the abandoned groceries.  
“Those?” she questions.  
I didn’t stutter love.  
“Yep, and a couple of other things,” I say before I quickly race back through the aisles.  
Biscuits, soft drink, ice cream…wine! She looked like she needed a drink. Not that I’m saying she drinks…but, you know, something to help her relax.  
White or red?  
Both, then she can choose.  
Is that too forward?  
Oh…fuck…Harold!  
I pick both and race back to the counter so the girl can finish ringing up the purchases. Moments later I am out the door and placing the bags into the back of my car.  
I knew where they were staying wasn’t too far down the road, though I still can’t believe they walked it, in the dark too.  
I finally see the small sign indicating I’ve reached Bridge Farm, out the front of the small property. I turn my car in through the gates and realise there are no lights on in the front building.  
Shit, I didn’t think of that.  
Maybe I should just leave them on the front door step?  
No the ice cream will melt.  
I drive slowly, getting a little bit closer when I notice a second house further down the back with the lights on.  
I swear my heart starts to accelerate.  
I continue to drive down slowly until I stop at the front.  
I look up to the lit window and see the two boys running around.  
This is definitely it.  
I exhale nervously.  
Why am I nervous?  
I turn the car off and exit, walking to the rear and taking out the groceries I’ve brought for them. Pushing the door shut with my hip, I walk up to the front door. I can hear the kids yell behind the door and I raise my hand to knock before I freeze.  
What do I say?  
I heard you couldn’t pay for your food?  
No. She could, just her card didn’t want to.  
I brought you food so your kids wouldn’t starve?  
That makes her sound like she didn’t feed them.  
I bought you wine?  
Yes, I want to get you drunk.  
Shit, I really hadn’t thought this completely through.  
Okay Harold, you’ve got this. You perform in front of thousands of fans, this is just one woman. And three kids.  
Taking a breath, I knock on the door.  
It opens and the woman stands there, a smile dropping from her face as she looks at me.  
She looks stunned.  
Stunned and confused.  
I open my mouth to speak when there’s a shout from behind her.  
“It’s Harry!”  
I watch the woman’s eyes widen slightly in recognition.  
“It is,” she says, “um…are you lost, or looking for someone?” she asks me.  
“Ah no, well, yes, you actually,” I reply, lifting up the bags to show her, “look, I couldn’t help but, um, overhear your predicament in the supermarket…”  
I watch her face redden again in embarrassment.  
“Oh…right…” she says.  
“And look,” the words begin to tumble out of my mouth at a rapid rate, “I’ve just flown in on a long haul flight and I’m exhausted myself but I don’t have three hungry kids and I just wanted to help you since your card wouldn’t work…” I smile at her sheepishly.  
“Oh my god mum, it’s Harry!” her daughter says breathlessly, “wait! Is Niall with you?!” she asks me.  
Wait…what?  
“No, but I’ve got ice cream…” I offer.  
“Good enough,” she says, shrugging her shoulders as she suddenly pushes past the woman and takes the shopping bag out of my hand that has the ice cream, the boys follow her lead and grab the other bags.  
“Wait…no…” the woman looks between me and her children who are now busy unpacking the groceries.  
She looks back at me and I swear she has the darkest, bluest eyes I have ever seen.  
I smile sheepishly at her again and hold my hand out, introducing myself properly.  
“Hi, I’m Harry,” I say.


End file.
